Leaving Las Pennsie
I suppose I can put this post in the “never say never” section of the “I’m out of my fucking mind”department of my cranium. It is with great hesitation, deep introspection, and a lot of mind changing that has finally been resolved by asking my Magic Eight Ball if I should move back to Jersey. When that little floating triangle told me “yes” I knew it was time to stop fiddle-fucking and face the music like a man-child.
The inner battle between doing what you want and doing what you need to do can be treacherous until you make that choice. For me the commute and price of gas now outweighs the serenity of living in the middle of nowhere. I happen to love where I live. The rural charm is refreshing and peaceful for me. I have led a quiet life of self-imposed exile not unlike Henry David Thoreau on Walden Pond…to be honest its more like Lee Harvey Oswald at the Wal-Mart parking lot. I will miss this place. There is a sign on my road the reads ”FREE MANURE”. You just don’t see that in Jersey. Not that I have ever taken advantage of the free manure but it’s somewhat comforting to know that it’s available…and its free.
Some of the people I’ve encountered are of the highest caliber and I’m a better person for having known them. There’s Jeff from Chestnuthill Trailers where I bought my ATV about 7 years ago. He was the first person to remind me of why I moved here in the first place. I had ordered an accessory for my new ATV and asked him when it would be in. He just looked at me, smiled and asked if I was new around here? He then proceeded to give me the Tao of living in Pennsylvannia…we don’t rush around here…it’ll get here when it gets here. Lesson 1…lighten up and relax. Doctor Frank Romascavage…I can not say enough about this man. He looks like a former WWF Wrestler…which he was actually the doctor for…wild long hair…raspy voice…sweat pants…insurance company hating…pharmacuetical company loathing…and one of the most genuinely caring men I’ve ever met. Last time I saw him he showed me a coffee can in his office filled with deck screws. He had accepted them in lieu of payment from a proud patient who could not afford health care. He is closed on Thursdays to make house calls to his elderly patients. What a great man. I will drive back here if I am sick because I refuse to see anyone else.
So there you have it. I said I’d never move back…and after see Jersey Shore, Real Housewives of NJ, and Jerseylicious…I was certain of it. Where do they find these people? Is NJ becoming the breeding ground for future Jerry Springer guests? At least when the Sopranos was on, people feared New Jersayans…now they just snicker behind your backs and make nasty references to your…sorry to yuz accents. Fugettaboutit…and what the fuck is a Snookie? NJ has a state bird, a state flag, and a state song. Did you really need a state moron? I will be keeping my PA plates for as long as I can. Until I turn them in… I’m still lost in translation with fond memories and a tear in my eye…
